Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)

by Devney Perry

“Not her.” Margot blinked. “Excuse me?” “Her.” The Guardian’s eyes flicked in my direction, and the whole room followed his gaze. To me. “Prince Zavier will marry her,” he declared. “Tonight. As the bride prize for killing your marroweels.”

I’d say that I have every right to be concerned with the seed you allow between your legs.”

I glanced over my shoulder to the marroweel. “Then I guess I’m trapped between two monsters.” “You have no idea how accurate that statement is,” he muttered, stepping closer.

“Come along, Sparrow. You’re late.” What if I pushed him overboard while we were at sea? Let the ocean do the killing for me. I almost liked the idea of watching that son of a bitch drown.

If I was going to die, I didn’t want my last sight to be rows of teeth, so I stayed locked on the Guardian. He might be a jackass, but at least he was handsome.

The silver in his eyes swirled to melting metal. He bent into my face, leaning in so close our noses nearly touched. “When I give you an order, you obey.” “I’m sorry.” My apology only seemed to make him angrier.

“If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to hop on one foot and pat your hair, then you. Fucking. Hop. Do we have an understanding?” “No.” The word surprised me as much as it did him.

“What did you say?” “No.” I squared my shoulders, using my last shred of strength, and lifted my chin. “I will listen when it’s a matter of safety for myself. For other people. I will do my best to ‘stay the fuck out of the way.’ But I will not bend to your every whim. I will not humiliate myself because you deem me insignificant. If you wanted me to stay quiet, then you should have let that marroweel kill me. I am not one of your warriors to lead. I am not your wife to command. So no, we do not have an understanding.”

“Your former fiancé must not have a big sword.” The Guardian’s eyes flashed emerald green, the innuendo dripping from his tone.

“Do you really think arming her is smart?” Zavier asked. The Guardian laughed. “I’ve had worse ideas.”

“I see you got my delivery.” “Stop breaking into my room.” “What’s that word you like so much?” He tapped his chin, pretending to think it over. “No.”

“Wait. You are training me?” No. Absolutely not. “Someone has to.”

“If you laugh at me, I swear to Izzac I will find a way to stab you in the eye.” I’d never prayed to the God of Death before, but there was always a first.

The Guardian dropped to a crouch, the knife dangling from his fingertips. “It is unwise to threaten me.” “Surprise, surprise. I’m not scared of you.”

“Fine. Guardian,” I drawled. “Is that really what everyone calls you? You must have a name.” “I do.” I waited. And waited. And waited. “Well, what is it?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping low. “Maybe I’ll tell you. If you earn it.”

“Earn it, like your trust?” His laugh was humorless. “You might earn my name one day. But make no mistake, Cross. I will never trust you.”

“Sore, my queen? We’ll have to add riding to your training regimen. That, or being ridden. I’ll have a word with Zavier.”

“If that water gets cold, I swear to Ama and Oda that I will kill you with my bare hands, here and now.” “Such rage, my queen. I am simply here to ensure you’re comfortable.” “I’m comfortable. Happy?”

“If you’re not going to send him here, I guess I’ll have to find his tent myself.” “Feel free to wander into mine, Princess.” He leaned in closer. “Zavier likes to share.”

“Praise is for the bedroom, Cross. Not the training ring.”

“Are you angry, Sparrow? Use that rage. Fucking. Fight.” I hate you. If he could read my mind, I wanted that at the front. I hate you. A slow grin stretched across his mouth. “There’s my queen.” “Stop calling me that,” I seethed. “Make me.”

Maybe those rumors about the Guardian were true. Maybe he was the God of Death.

I guess if I fell to my death, at least I’d get to skip that awkward sex.

I hated him for smacking me in the face with a pillow this morning.

Yes, it had been clever. A safe space for my secret things. And now the bane of my existence knew I had something to hide. Damn.

“Running.” Eww. “Why?” “Your stamina is shit.” It might have hurt my feelings if I hadn’t heard that before. “You don’t look like the Guardian, but you two sure sound alike.”

I really was an awful liar, even to myself.

“I hate you.” “Yes, you do. Don’t forget.”

“Do you have any respect for a person’s private space? Or is it just mine you insist on invading? Are you afraid to be alone? Is that why you’re always here?” “I think we both know something about being alone.”

“Hello, my queen.” Well, fuck.

His gaze turned molten silver, and while I’d suspected that the colors shifted with his moods, I was damn sure of it now. Silver was bad. Very, very bad.

“I leave you for four days, and you can’t stay put. You are, without a doubt, the biggest pain in my ass I’ve ever met.” His hand dove into his dark hair again, tugging at the roots.

“I didn’t ask to be married to a stranger and shipped across the continent. I didn’t ask to come to Turah. I didn’t ask to be jailed in a wilderness treehouse. Those were decisions made for me by the whims of men. So you can threaten to take away my freedom all you want, but I will fight you. Every step of the way. Until my last breath. And I will not go quietly into a cage.”

“I hate you,” I seethed. “Yes, you do. Don’t forget.” “Never.”

“I hope my snoring keeps you awake all night.” He chuckled. “Good night, my queen.”

He searched my eyes the way I searched his. For answers. Salvation. Mercy. There was a tether between us. Gods save us when it snapped.

“I hate you.” It should have broken the moment. It should have pissed him off. But he stared at me like I was something to behold. Something to cherish. Something to protect. “Yes, you do,” he said. “Don’t forget.” “Never.”

I wished I was excited to see Zavier. But I wasn’t. No, I was longing to see another man. And I hated myself for missing the Guardian.

Emerald meant he was amused. Intrigued. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen him actually happy, but green was the color of his gaze when he wasn’t pissed off. They changed to varying shades of hazel when he was serious or focused or annoyed. And then there was the silver of his rage.

“We kill the monsters. We kill them all. Every last one.” Him. He meant to kill the monsters. Then himself. He smirked, his arrogant mask falling into place. “Just think of how happy your father will be when I’m dead. You can even tell him you killed me, just like he asked. My queen the assassin.”

He took my face in his hands, dropping his forehead to mine. His thumb traced my cheek, and tingles exploded on my skin. “You’re okay.” Was he reassuring me? Or himself? “I’m okay.”

“Even if I’m with the great and powerful Guardian?” His nostrils flared. “Don’t ever call me that again.” “Tell me your real name, and I won’t.”

“That’s great. I’m sure your future wife will be glad that you can, uh…” This just kept getting worse. “You know what I’m saying.” “That my future wife will be glad I can kiss and fuck her.” “Yes. Great news.”

“I guess you’ll just have to be careful not to bite her.” What in the six shades was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I shut the fuck up? “I’m not much for biting women.”

“You asked for my name,” he said. “You told me I had to earn it.” He nodded. “Ransom. My name is Ransom.”

“Spoken like a queen.” “Stop.” I bristled, swatting him away. “I don’t want to be a queen.” “Tough shit.”

“Don’t make me regret giving you your own space.” “Please.” I huffed. “I would never cause trouble.” “That you actually believe yourself is the most terrifying part of that statement.” I threw up a hand. “Hey, trouble finds me. I don’t go looking for it.” He nodded to Faze. “Says the woman with a tarkin strapped to her chest.” “Fair point,” I muttered.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I told you to stay quiet today.” “I couldn’t help myself. He made me mad.” “Gods save the men who make you mad.”

“I have to let go.” “Of what?” “You,” I whispered. “You are not mine to keep.” He breathed, shifting so close his chest brushed against my back. “What if I was yours?” “How? I signed my name in blood, remember?”

“You have always been my queen.”